


Barracuda

by orphan_account



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Implied Relationships, Knifeplay, M/M, PWP, Polyamory, Shameless Smut, Smut, Unproteced Sex, also hes a harcore bottom, anyways here the debut of this oc, hes tall and skinny and redhaired and he has a horrible accent, his name is data and he's a southern boy, honestly this is completely and utterly self indulgent, i should probably tag this for real huh, oh yeah by the way hermanns a top in this, theyre all gay together, well its implied, wrap it before you tap it yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 03:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15133976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hermann would never have considered himself adrenaline junkie, or thrill seeker, or whatever the term may have been, but now that he laid there, knife against his throat, completely helpless and utterly turned on by the situation, he figured he might as well be.Perhaps the drift with Newt had changed him in such a way.





	Barracuda

**Author's Note:**

> this is completely self-indulgent oc smut and i'm 100% not sorry for it  
> i'd like to thank the big gay that gave me the idea for this..u kno who u are  
> post-apocalyptic au, maybe the kaiju destroyed everything idk

“Y’Alright?” Data’s panting echoed in the small space of the makeshift shelter.

“Fine,” Hermann lied. He leaned against the door, the pain in his leg at near excruciating levels after running.

“Hermann…”

His head turned towards the ginger, still out of breath.

“You're terrible at lying...Let’s take a minute,” he pushed himself off of the door, Hermann stumbling after him.

Data near-fell onto the mattress, his flannel fluttering slightly upwards and giving Hermann a full view of his torso, bruised and battered still from their recent exploits. Hermann’s eyes flickered downwards to Data’s hips; cuts and even more bruises - or were those something else? - lined perfectly along his waistline... _Newt must have gotten to him last night._

The cuts, however, were a bit more jarring to see.

“What happened?”

“Hm?” Data felt the mattress shift as Hermann sat next to him.

“Your…” his hand brushed along Data’s waist, pushing his shirt out of the way as he closer inspected the nearly healed wounds. Data squirmed out of Hermann’s touch, gasping slightly at the feeling of his hand then trailing along his thigh as he moved out of the way, rolling over to straddle Hermann’s waist.

“You sure you're okay? That was a pretty intense run,” Data dipped his head to press his lips to Hermann’s, barely pulling back only to gaze down at him. Hermann noticed the various blood splatters intermingled with Data’s many freckles - a deep crimson constellation within the midst of a pattern of painted markings so distinct to Data that Hermann bothered to memorize the patterns hidden within them, to trace and recount when they laid together. Hermann reached up, taking Data’s face in his hands and pulling him down, still exhilarated from their recent supply run, and kissed him - _hard._

Data barely held himself above Hermann, a small noise manifesting in his throat, barely held back only by Hermann’s kiss that burned his nerves and ignited a fire within him. Hermann’s hands slid from Data’s face to his neck, fingers brushing its base and tugging gently on his curls. His head moved back slightly as Hermann’s hands entangled themselves in his hair, eliciting a slight moan from the ginger. Hearing the noise, Hermann’s grasp on Data tightened, bringing him closer as he continued to kiss him desperately.  
Data’s hips ground down onto Hermann’s, desperate for friction fueled by the adrenaline of their near-death experience coupled with Hermann's hands, which had trailed now down to his waist, slipping under his shirt and running along his skin, battered and blue spotted with the red of blood. Hermann pushed Data off him, hands immediately working at the buttons of the redhead’s flannel.

“What happened to you?” Hermann’s voice was low as he pushed Data’s shirt from his shoulders, followed closely by Hermann discarding his own ripped, bloodstained sweater.

“Newt and I,” Data breathed as Hermann began trailing kisses down Data’s torso, “We tried something new.”

“New?” Hermann felt a familiar bubble of jealousy swell from within him. He loved Newt, of course, but he also loved Data, and the thought of them together, _without him?_

“It was his idea, I swear, I - _ah,”_ he was cut off as Hermann’s lips pressed harshly against a particularly sensitive mark on Data’s stomach, “I promise.”

“What sort of 'new?’”

“I can show you,” Data’s voice jumped an octave lower as he sat up. Hermann’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued, and being the man he was, there was no stopping him from indulging in his curiosity.

“Fine,” the moment the word left his mouth Data had him pinned to the bed once more, this time trailing kisses down Hermann’s neck, which strained with pleasure. His hands trailed up his own thighs and as Hermann watched, he figured that the idea wasn't very original, nor did he understand how it could've left such marks.  
It was then that Data pulled the knife from where it was strapped to his leg, the blade sheening silver in the dim light of their makeshift haven.

“What are you -” Data shushed him as he dragged the dull end of the blade up Hermann’s abdomen, the cold of the metal sending a chill down his spine in an almost thrilling manner. He was, despite his initial reaction, _excited._

His breath hitched as he felt Data’s hand trail after the knife, and the blade pressing slightly against his throat - he felt his heart beat faster and a rush of adrenaline surge through him; he locked eyes with Data, who wore an uncharacteristically devilish smirk, something he had also picked up from Newt, likely.  
Once again Data captured Hermann’s lips in a heated kiss, before he trailed the affections down to his jaw, the knife still pressed firmly against Hermann’s neck.

 _“Don't move,”_ Hermann’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt Data’s breath against his ear, another trail of kisses down his neck interluded with rather harsh bites. Hermann realized then he had no idea which side of the blade was currently held against him, and the idea was both enticing and terrifying in his mind.  
He did his best to remain perfectly still and silent, and he succeeded until he felt Data’s teeth against his collarbone, grazing his skin. He was marking him, nipping and sucking at his skin and somehow still holding steady the knife, trailing it down to his chest again, running it across the fresh hickey blooming there, drawing a strangled groan from Hermann as he attempted yet to stay still.

The ginger quickly made his way to Hermann’s lower half, using the knife to tear through the fabric of Hermann’s slacks (his last good pair, Data reckoned), quite literally tearing them off and tossing them aside, leaving Hermann in his boxers, stained from arousal. Data palmed him through his boxers, keeping his gaze on Hermann’s face as his expression contorted in pleasure and need for more. The blade trailed along Hermann’s inner thighs, and he gasped faintly before waiting with bated breath for Data’s next move.

“I didn't know you liked this kind of thing.”

“Neither did I,” Hermann’s voice was nearly a growl as his hips lifted into Data’s hand.

The boxers were far easier to cut through and were also quickly thrown aside, leaving Hermann completely bare beneath Data. His hand brushed the underside of Hermann’s length, drawing a moan from him. He felt the cold of the blade replace Data’s hand briefly, barely scraping his skin in an almost sharp pain. 

He moaned again.

Data’s hands continued traveling Hermann’s body, the knife sending a stimulating shock to every one of his senses, only furthered by Data’s clothed bottom half, which now ground ungracefully against Hermann - they were both desperate for touch. Sensing this, Hermann took Data’s waist, hands digging into the bruises there. Data let out a noise that was a mix of pleasure and pain, the previous from the latter likely, and in that moment his instincts kicked in, Hermann was free to do whatever he wished with him. His first move was to tug at Data’s jeans, clumsily fumbling with the button before pulling them off. His second was to, near immediately after, slip his hand into the boxers underneath, stroking Data’s arousal. There was a small whimper from the ginger, he was completely drowning in a sense of longing for more, which he vocalized faintly as Hermann looked curiously at him, hand still in his boxers, near tearing it with the sheer force with which Data desperately bucked his hips upwards to meet Hermann’s hand as it moved.

It was odd to him, the ferocity the tall southerner seemed to hold in everyday life, he was not afraid to steal, cheat, murder for their survival, hazel eyes burning with a lust for power as they made their way through the city scavenging for supplies; it made little sense how much it contrasted to him now, begging, pleading for the slightest of touches, whining when he got them, crying when he didn't. He made the most delicious noises in bed.  
Hermann wondered if he was this loud with Newt. He figured no, he would have heard them, wouldn't he have? It gave him a sense of power, of dominance that fueled his actions further as Data moaned his name.

“Hermann, _god,_ please, I -”

Hermann suddenly stopped, pulling down Data’s boxers finally, and rolling him over onto his stomach. He pulled his waist up, knowing very well what was to happen next. Hermann was almost surprised at his eagerness, but most certainly was not going to complain. His hands rested on Data’s hips, gently at first, as he pushed into him, the two simultaneously letting out a sigh of relief.

Hermann seemed to have forgotten all about the pain in his leg at that point. 

They sat a moment together, Data propping himself up barely on his elbows, curls already damp with sweat and covering his face.  
He whined as he felt Hermann pull out before pushing back in much harder. Data moaned at the feeling, realizing then he still held his knife rather tightly.  
Hermann set a moderate pace, fingers now digging into Data’s hips, surely marking him with fresh bruises.  
Data let his head fall onto the pillow below him, a string of high-pitched moans escaping him with every thrust of Hermann’s, which grew in pace rapidly. He could hear Hermann’s panting, though much quieter than his own sounds, and he attempted to hold himself up once more.  
The mattress was, at best, uncomfortable and at worst barely a padding between them and the floor. Data could feel his elbows run red with hurt, so he attempted to reposition himself, leaning on his hands.

The knife, he had decided, was nothing more than a burden now, digging into the pillow as he held it white-knuckled. His lifted it to set it aside, but as he did Hermann also shifted, kicking Data’s legs further apart before thrusting harder into him. Data arched forward, effectively pushing the knife directly into the drywall ahead of him. 

“Oh, _oh god,”_ his voice was hoarse from moans and strained with pleasure, the words a response to the feeling of Hermann or the accidental knife-in-the-wall, he didn't know. He collapsed back onto the pillow as Hermann, who was now feeling his own climax nearing, continued to fuck him into the mattress.  
Data recognized the labored breaths and slight groans, and reached a hand to his own cock, attempting to mimic the feeling of Hermann’s hand as it felt earlier. It was, of course, nothing like it, but it was enough to bring Data to the brink of release, and with a cry, muffled thankfully by the pillows, he felt his nails dig into the mattress below him as he finished into his own hand, chanting Hermann’s name as though praising a god - which in that moment he might as well have been in Data’s eyes.  
Hermann felt the convulsion of Data’s muscles and it was enough to push him to his own climax, and he groaned as he pulled out of Data a final time, working himself with his hand until he also came, holding himself above the arch of Data’s back as to not ruin the few blankets they had on the bed below.

How courteous. 

“Hermann,” Data held still in his position, tire apparent in his tone.

“Yes?” his voice was cracked and grating still as he collapsed onto the mattress beside the ginger.

Data finally laid himself next to Hermann, pulling a blanket over the two, “Where's Newt?”

The door opened then, and a very excited Newt stumbled in, _“Guys!_ You’ll never guess what I found out back! I - _Oh,”_ his gaze landed on the two in bed together, albeit covered. 

Then he noticed the knife.

“The wall….”

“Newton -” Hermann started.

“Okay, I don't want to know, but uh, when you two are done just...Come out back I found something...Pretty cool,” he turned and hurried out.

“What did he mean, the wall?”

“Nothing.”

“Data-”

“Nothing!”

Hermann turned his head, eyes going wide at the sight of the knife.

“Our wall!”

Data scrambled out of bed, grabbing his clothes, “I’m gonna go help Newt with whatever he found -”

_“Our wall!”_

Data hurried out, running a hand through his hair before rushing out, shirt still half unbuttoned, leaving Hermann alone.

_“Our wall…”_


End file.
